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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277392">Untold Musings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkera/pseuds/Inkera'>Inkera</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Steven Universe (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Nostalgia, Self-Acceptance, Short &amp; Sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:53:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkera/pseuds/Inkera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Steven Universe ficlets. Updated sporadically. </p><p>-<br/>Tumblr: inkera0</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amethyst &amp; Pearl (Steven Universe), Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nostalgia (Steven & Connie)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you ever miss it?” asks Steven, breaking their hour long silence.</p><p>He’s visiting Connie in her dorm room for the weekend in between a visit to Kansas and a space adventure with Lars. She sits at her desk to finish homework before the two of them can hang out, while he lays on her bedspread, doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>“Home?”</p><p>“Yes,” he replies. “And no.”</p><p>“I miss my parents,” says Connie, scribbling on some folder paper. “And the gems. But other than that, not really.”</p><p>“But I mean…” He picks at the skin by a fingernail. “Do you ever miss how things used to be? Back when we first met.”</p><p>It’s foolish to wish back to a time where he was still struggling with his identity and place in the world - back when his family was at each other’s throats and still grieving over his mother - but the thoughts come to the front of his mind unbidden, despite all efforts against going down that dark hole again. His therapist warned him nostalgia sometimes makes the past seem better than it actually was, but he can’t help but miss that carefree and naive boy he used to be. </p><p>He misses when every day isn’t a constant struggle for peace of mind. </p><p>“Steven, what’s this about?”</p><p>He turns on his side to find Connie staring back, laptop closed and papers neatly filed away behind her. She’s giving him the same eyes she always does when he’s being intentionally - and worryingly - vague. “Just having some bad thoughts lately,” he admits but hastily adds, “It’s nothing serious though.”</p><p>Connie moves to his side, the bed sinking under her weight. “You promise?”</p><p>Steven can’t meet her gaze. </p><p>“Oh, Steven.” She runs a gentle hand through his hair, while he sighs at the touch. “You can tell me anything.”</p><p>“I know… and you’re wonderful for it.” His fingers play with the edge of his shirt, a barely conscious effort to keep them from further damage. “I should be better after two whole years, but then I get like this, and it’s all so… tiring.”</p><p>“To answer your question,” says Connie, voice soft and soothing, “I do adore our past memories together. But I wouldn’t give up the present for anything in the world.”</p><p>“Why’s that?”</p><p>“A number of things could’ve gone different back then; they could’ve turned out <em>better,</em> even. But there’s something beautiful about <em>choosing</em> to move forward - like you’ve been doing so, so bravely - despite everything that’s happened, and part of that is forgiving yourself for taking one step back every now and then. And guess what?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“There will be people helping you back up again. You don’t have to do any of it alone.” She leans down to kiss his forehead. “And we’re not going anywhere.”</p><p>He thinks back to the people he’s hurt - the gems, his dad, even Connie; his family who have seen him at his worse and still choose to love him anyway… as well as all the hurt he’s caused to himself. </p><p>He thinks of Pearl dropping everything when he calls her on FaceTime, even if that thing is a hot frying pan on the stove, of the way Amethyst bounces in the picture to see how he’s doing and gushes about her class at Little Homeschool, of how Garnet is a steady presence in the background who pitches in comments here and there to remind him to take things easy, of how his dad rushes in at the last minute while Pearl passes him the phone so they can talk alone. </p><p>He thinks of the tender way Connie greets him as he hops off Lion with a kiss to the cheek and a hug that seems way too big for her to manage, especially since he’s taller than her now - of the way she holds him on his bad days and leaves a chocolate bar near his bed for him to wake up to. </p><p>He thinks of his own efforts to drag himself to the bathroom for a shower, even if that’s the only thing he manages to do that day. Or the way he goes down a list of all the things he loves about himself every morning, even if it feels mechanical and overdone -  because it <em>does</em> help. He has to believe it.</p><p>In the present, Connie catches a tear rolling down his cheek with a swipe of her thumb. </p><p>“I don’t know how you do it.”</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>“Always see the bright side of everything.”</p><p>“Silly,” she laughs, and something in his stomach lightens at the sound. “I learned it from you.”</p><p>He’s not at the point yet where the morning sun doesn’t feel intrusive through the blinds and his bed doesn’t feel like a permanent coffin decades too early, but maybe someday with enough patience and love, he’ll get there.</p><p>He just needs to keep looking forward.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Had some thoughts one day about the past and figured Steven might feel the same.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I Found You (Pearl & Amethyst)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Based on the prompt: "I found you... snuggling into my chest, refusing to let my hand go."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You were an enigma; a wild card thrown into the maelstrom of our lives. You were also <em>free</em> in every sense of the word, and sometimes I hated you for it. I fought my whole life for my freedom, but you’ve achieved everything I did and more just by existing.</p><p>Free to express yourself - to experience life unbound to the past. And what should have been beautiful to me was a harsh reminder of my own failures, and I’m <em>so sorry</em> it made its way back to you.</p><p>Little did I know, you were bound by the same chains - but instead to a cruel promise, it was to a pile of rubble that convinced you it was home. You were bound to a war you had nothing to do with and all its connotations.</p><p>The same ones I placed upon <em>you</em> without a second thought. But if there’s one thing I learned over the millennia - if there’s one thing I learned from <em>you</em> - it’s that intent and impact are two very different things. </p><p>I found you beneath the dirt and grime, and in that moment I should have realized you were a diamond in the rough. I would know, after all. But all that came to mind was <em>defect</em> and <em>wrong,</em> just like Homeworld taught.</p><p>(And okay, maybe I was still bound to them in ways I wasn’t ready to face yet - even after all the fighting and love and loss.)</p><p>You were defective <em>(like me).</em> But you were also <em>new. </em></p><p>I found you in the rough with curious wide eyes and soft reaching fingers - so unlike the battle-worn hands of other quartzes I never hesitated to cut down. The moment I found you snuggling into my chest, refusing to let my hand go, I knew I had to give you this fresh start.</p><p>If one good thing could come out of all this mess, maybe it could be you.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Self Love (Amethyst)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Amethyst doesn’t remember the exact moment she stopped hating herself.</p><p>But one day, she found herself staring in a shop window, and the reflection staring back didn’t make her flinch. Another day, when Pearl laughed at one of her jokes, she could focus on the fuzzy feeling growing in her chest at the sound rather than the relief at finally being able to do something right. When Garnet and Steven complimented her sculpture of trash she built out of things lying in her room, she felt a brief flash of pride - at both her creation and herself for calling them into her private sanctum and willingly sharing that part of herself.</p><p>She doesn’t remember exactly when shape shifting started to feel less like wanting to be someone else - anything else - and more of an extension of what was already there, but she knows it’s always been a work in progress. </p><p>It didn’t happen all of a sudden. But as she gazes over her students, knowing that a few years ago she never would have thought she’d have something valuable enough to teach, she thinks maybe it doesn’t have to happen all at once. </p><p>And that’s okay.</p>
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